


Something Unexpected

by fruitkings



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-02-18 23:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22868254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitkings/pseuds/fruitkings
Summary: You and Ootori Kyoya have both been trained for nearly a decade to prepare for a marriage that betters your family’s businesses. When you are matched, you both have trouble reconciling what’s expected of you and what you both want.
Relationships: Ootori Kyouya/Reader, Ootori Kyoya/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 75





	1. It Began in a Foyer

A week ago, your parents sat you down in the foyer. Your mother’s hands were shaking with excitement and your father patted you on the head. You had finally did it, you secured the Y/L/N line with a marriage to one of the probable Ootori heirs. You’d been training for this your whole life.

Today, the glamour seemed to dull. You were in a different foyer, in the Ootori home, staring down the man you were meant to marry. Your mothers had excused themselves to the kitchen, and your fathers had left some time ago. For nearly four minutes now, Kyoya Ootori had been watching you breathe. At some point, he synced his breathing to yours. It seems it was your move.

“So, Kyoya-senpai, you go to Ouran Academy, correct?” You asked, fingers fluttering over your teacup.

“Yes, that’s correct.” He did not budge.

“And you direct the Ouran Host Club.” This time was a statement. You did your homework. Kyoya only hummed, still not breaking eye contact. For a moment you wished he would take off his glasses. “Forgive me, Kyoya-senpai, but this conversation is obviously going nowhere, so shall we just get down to business?”

“Yes, I suppose, we shall.”

“Our fathers want at least one heir, but you, as a third child yourself, should now by now they prefer the competition. We should probably produce the heir about a year after I graduate, so our mothers can say they would never use me in such a debasing manner, and always urge me to continue my studies.” This, at least, earned a dark chuckle from Kyoya.

“I suppose we don’t need much contact beyond that, then.” He concluded quickly, pushing up his glasses.

“It’s not required, Kyoya-senpai, but I would like it if we could become friends. I’ve asked my father to consider transferring me to Ouran, with your permission, of course.” He then smiled like he couldn’t decide what to do, knitted eyebrows hidden by his glasses, and shook his head.

“That’s completely fine, Y/N-san. I will see to it that we’re put in the same classes.” 


	2. Now for the Introductions

Within the week, you began attendance at Kyoya’s school. There was something strange about Ouran Academy, an air of... uselessness. Of children of moguls with nothing to do with their lives but play. They were mostly insufferable, with attitudes towards the working class, or working in general. Besides a few nuggets of kindness, you only found children that would use silver spoons as pencils if they could. They were rich enough to hire someone to use the pencils for them. Luckily, you were only in Class B. 

  
In your first couple of classes, at least three different people asked about your family. Which would be harmless, if not for the fact they automatically went into a rant about how their family was richer than yours. And that may have even been true, it was why you were engaged into the Ootori family in the first place. Your family was rich, but not stupidly so. What they were was smart. 

Kyoya was in your fourth class, which was apparently a very uncommon occurrence due to how Ouran was divided, like a breath of fresh air. He raised his hand politely, answered whatever question was poised, and took notes diligently. You never knew something so obviously mundane could be a lighthouse in a sea of obnoxious students. What you didn’t notice was that he seemed to keep you in his line of sight. The rest of the class knew that Kyoya, a glutton for routine, always sat in the front row. But he was suddenly two rows behind you, his eyes trained on the boys snickering as their hands hovered over your back. 

  
Once your last class ended, you received a text from your father, notifying you that you would ride with Kyoya to the Ootori home that afternoon, meaning you would have to wait until he was finished with his club activities. Dejected, you made your way to Music Room 3, which had been written in Kyoya’s handwriting at the bottom of your copy of his schedule. It would be aggravating, to say the least, watching all those girls swoon like idiots, but at least you’d get to meet Kyoya’s friends, who’d be more realistic than the others, right? 

  
You opened the door, confused by a puff of roses. You opened your mouth to question them but was silenced by a blonde boy grabbed and kissing your hand, his eyes glued to yours.

“Well, a first-timer. We love first-timer’s here. Tell me, Princess, what is it that you’re searching for?” He spoke with the lilt of a fairytale prince, but his smirk gave way to the arrogance of, well, a real prince.

“I think there’s been a mistake.” You said hesitantly, eyes immediately finding Kyoya, who only at the sound of your voice looked up.

“Y/N?” You only responded with an apologetic smile, wrenching your hand from the blonde’s fingers.

”Mommy? You know this woman?” The blonde said, recovering with ease.

“Mommy?” You asked, eyebrow raised in amusement. “Hm, you did say the club was difficult to explain without context, but I didn’t think it was like that.” Two distinct laughs came from the group, but from identical faces. They slapped Kyoya on each shoulder, but were immediately rebuffed with a threatening state. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N-chan. I didn’t expect you to come here. Please, I’ll get you some tea and explain.” Kyoya then stalked off, the tips of his ears burning.

Before entering the music room, you thought Kyoya’s friends would be more realistic. You were wrong. For the most part. After Kyoya disappeared, you were properly introduced to Honey, a third year with a boyish charm, as he grabbed your hand and showed you around the room. At the same time, you met Mori, who only grunted a ‘Hello’, and Haruhi, who remarked how he didn’t think Kyoya had friends outside of the Host Club. They were the tame ones. 

As you opened your mouth to explain how you and Kyoya know each-other, the identical boys from earlier approached, parallel grins smeared on their faces. As they each slid an arm around your shoulders, crossing on the back of your neck. 

“So, are you Kyoya’s sister? Girlfriend? We don’t know much about the guy, he’s so quiet!” One spoke, his free hand gesturing.

”Though he’s not as quiet as Mori-senpai, at least we have Honey to translate all those sighs. I’m betting on cousin, though, right?” 

“Actually,” you heard Kyoya start, looking in his direction, “she’s to be my fiancée.” He casually pushed his glasses up as if he didn’t just inform everyone of the most important moments of his life. Everyone else froze, like the world stopped. 

  
“Kyoya-senpai, you’re getting married?” Haruhi said, and you noticed that she seemed to be a voice of reason in the chaos. 

  
“N-not for another couple of years or so, if everything goes as planned.” You chimed in, unsure if Kyoya would answer. Kyoya set a teacup into your hand, lingering for only a moment, as if to communicate placidity. You gingerly sat in the nearest chair, watching as the Kyoya snapped his fingers in the air, gaining the attention of the girls that were slowly filing in. 

“I’m sorry, ladies, but it seems we have had something come up. Could I please ask you to exit and return tomorrow?” They listened. You were alone with the Host Club, and they were staring at you like you had eaten the moon in front of them.

In the next hour, you had learned everyone’s names. Well, you were given the name of Tamaki, the blonde one. He had been sulking in the corner for at least ten minutes, upset that Kyoya didn’t tell him about your upcoming engagement. Apparently, Tamaki was the poster boy for the out-of-touch students you had classes with. Dramatic. Horrifyingly ignorant. Kyoya knew this, but seemed to care for him anyway. 


	3. The Inevitability of Kyoya

After dealing with Host Club's worries, you and Kyoya had finally made it to his family's car. He opened the door for you, and you looked up to smile at him, but he was staring down at his phone. But, well, an empty kindness was still a kindness, wasn't it? You climbed in as carefully as you could, but the seat was slightly taller than your waist, so you had some difficulty. Kyoya got into the other side inattentively, eyes still glued to his phone. 

"So, the Host Club? It's quite a unique business." You spoke, if only to fill the air with something other than the silence. Kyoya sighed before he set down his phone face-down on the seat, finally making eye-contact. 

"Is that a question, Y/N-chan?" He said. He didn't sound annoyed, and it felt absent from his words. You almost wished his eyes had even an ounce of disdain, but they didn't. It was creepy.

"You're quite indifferent when your parents or friends aren't around." You observed, eyes darting from the driver to him. This was only a thirty minute drive, you could survive it. He tightened his tie before his spoke.

"You're quite useless when yours aren't."

"The Hitachiin brothers. My family has been trying to get their father to work with us for years, but he refuses to answer calls from businesses that haven't gotten the approval of Suoh, for whatever reason, I'm guessing now it's because the Host Club has become much more of an alliance for you boys. Your family's have now taken it to be useful. Aside from your father, of course, he would have mentioned it. Anyway, in the short time I was with the twins and Tamaki-senpai, I got Hayato Hitachiin's personal phone number, and for Tamaki to vouch for my family to his father." You spoke in one long blurt, giving the full report to Kyoya that you would to your father. "I'm sorry, Kyoya-senpai. But one thing I'm not is useless." This was the second time today someone looked at you that incredulously, but his face calmed a moment later. 

"And what about Haruhi Fujioka?"

"The honor student? I assume she's posing as a boy to continue her work for the Host Club, but I haven't figured out why. Very smart, even though she doesn't notice that most of the Host Club is in love with her." 

"Alright." Kyoya tapped the back of the driver's seat twice, "You can take us home now."

You didn’t have time to stop the gasp from leaving your lips. He’d been… testing you? Of course the Ootori would, but they would through your parents. Kyoya would have no responsibility to do this. 

“If you’re wondering why I did this, it has nothing to do with our families.” He pushed up his glasses, eyes veering to the window. “You should have realized by now, I have no interest in being friends with people I cannot also be partners with. If you’re to take over your father’s company, and this marriage goes through, I need to know what to expect from you.” He looked back at you, as if for emphasis, and smirked. “I know now to expect a great deal, Y/N.” Once the car came to a stop, Kyoya exited first, trotting around the car to open your door for you. This time, he looked you in the eyes. You would never come to understand how Kyoya can say everything and nothing in his stare. Cold and calculating, but almost hopeful. 

“I’ve seen how your family works, Kyoya. I didn’t need to test you to know you would exceed any expectation I enact. But I don’t mind that you had to.” This time, you led, going straight to the door. Kyoya followed after a few beats, nodding to the driver. 

“I made the staff aware of you this morning, Y/N. You will be let in as one of the family, no matter if I’m with you or not. If I’m not, though, they will either bring you to me or to my room. There’s no need for you to deal with my father by yourself.” 

“I’m quite sure I can handle your father, Kyoya.”

“As am I, but I wouldn’t wish for you to.” You watched him as he opened the front door, eyebrows furrowed. His father was kind to you. Why was Kyoya warning away from him?

You followed him up to his room. It was bigger than yours, and something about it screamed hospital, but you supposed that was only natural, considering his family. It was split-leveled. The bottom floor was like a living room, but his drawers lined one wall. The upper level was probably where his bed was, but you couldn’t get a good view as you sat on the white couch. God, this kid wasn’t afraid he’d make a mess, was he? Nearly everything was white. There was virtually no clutter, nothing to differentiate this from any other room in the house. Nothing that said it was his. The music room at school was more personalized than this.

“I’m not sure what plan my father has to get me home.”

“I could call a car to bring you, but I do think he wants us to spend time together.”

“You don’t have to strain yourself, Kyoya, I’ll go home whenever it pleases you.” It wasn’t supposed to come out rudely, but you could tell Kyoya wasn’t used to sharing this space. 

“It pleases me for you to stay a while.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He laughed. You stared. Was that the first time you heard him laugh? A genuine one, not the sadistic snicker from the last time they were alone. 

“You should laugh more.”

“Everyday I find less and less things that warrant laughter.” He said, his finger tracing the stitch on the sofa arm.

“Nothing has to warrant laughter, Kyoya, laughter is given freely. No matter how we were raised, there are some things in this world that are free.”

“So I’ve heard. Do you think we were free?”

“Us? To who?”

“Our parents. Which one of them are gaining something from this? Your family is definitely less financially secure than mine, but they are in no way struggling. And I’ve been wondering what my father is gaining from marrying off his third son, I am not going to take over the Ootori Group, there’s no reasoning.” 

“Maybe it’s more of an alliance than a trade-off. Like, if one of our family’s are struggling in the future.”

“Perhaps, but that could be done just as easily without the marriage.” 

“You’re right. What do you think?”

“I think my father is using yours somehow.”

“You seem to think very lowly of your father.”

“No, my father is a great businessman, patriarch, and doctor.”

“What, did you read his biography for that? You talk about him as if you live with your greatest enemy.”

“Oh.” He leaned back onto the couch, pulling his tie loose. “Aren’t all of our fathers our enemies? We have to succeed them, don’t we?” You didn’t know how to tell him how unhealthy that was. “What about your parents? What are they like?” 

“Well, you met them.”

“I had a meeting with them. What are they like at home?”

“My mother is like any other. She cooks, sings while she works, makes me soup when I’m sick.” You smiled as you thought of her. “My father’s probably insane. He dresses up for parties, you know. Like your Host Club. He picks a theme, and he comes the only one in costume. Tells everyone else they’re underdressed, but he never tells anyone what the theme is.” Kyoya didn’t know how to tell you that you were the luckiest person alive. 

“You must love them very much.” He said instead.

“They’ll be your parents too someday, though I doubt you’d like his costumes. Might ruin your image.”

“He’d have to tell me the theme, so I could plan the party around it.” You smiled at him, leaning back. You haven’t had a conversation this relaxed with Kyoya. You haven't even seen Kyoya this relaxed. He smiled back at you, taking his tie off completely.


	4. Woman of the House

You’d spent the afternoon at Kyoya’s home, trying to force cracks in his marble exterior. You found some, spiraling from his throat in laughs that managed to escape, but the young man was still an enigma. All the cracks seemed to seal, anyway, once he called the car to take you home. Apparently, you’d gotten home earlier than expected, as your parents hadn’t come out to greet you like they normally do. It was nearly dinner time, you noted, as you passed the grandfather clock in the foyer, so your mother was probably setting the table. You’re family never felt the need to have a kitchen or waiting staff. Your mother loved the ideals of western domesticity, and your father began to find them difficult to budget in. You only hired them for parties, nowadays. Your cellphone chimed, echoing off the walls. Your mother was close enough to hear, apparently.

“Y/N? Is that you?” She asked, popping her head out from the dining room, a tea cup in her hand.

“Yes, mother.” You answering absently, looking down at the text you received from Kyoya.

_’I had a wonderful time. Would be pleased to visit your home next time.’_

It was poised like a business communication, and a sigh left your lips. Right after you made all that progress. 

_‘P.S. I’m open to any party themes, Y/N. Even if it tarnishes my image.’_

You smiled. It was a step, at least. Looking up, you realized your mother had disappeared back into the dining room, and your heard the quiet sounds of dishes clacking onto the table. You resolved to find your father, venturing to the study further into the belly of the home. Your home was warmer that Kyoya’s, with wooden tones and and familial decor. It was a stark juxtaposition to the hospital-themed decorations of the Ootori home. You found the door to your father’s study cracked open, and his voice erupted from the inside. You listened instinctively.

”I don’t care if the man owned all of Japan, he’s not taking this business out from under me! My daughter will marry the Ootori boy, and I will send the full force of the Ootori group if my hand is forced. So, tell your boss to keep his passport handy.” You started as he slammed the phone back onto the receiver, strangling the dial tone out into the air. 

“Father, I believe the table is being set,” You announced, pretending you hadn’t heard your father’s rage. 

“Oh, Y/N.” He inhaled deeply, slicking his hair back and composing himself. “How was visiting the Ootori’s?” 

“It was... illuminating? I think I enjoy Kyoya’s company, but, his life is very different than ours.” You answered, looking down at your phone once more before shoving back into your pocket. 

“Yes, well, the Ootori’s are known for being quite stuck-up, but don’t tell anyone I said that, alright, duckling?” He tapped his finger to the side of his nose twice, taking a few steps toward you before wrapping a bear-like arm across your shoulders. You turned in unison and walked to the dining room, where your mother had set out dinner in a charming array. 

**Author's Note:**

> This work has not been edited, so I apologize for any errors. Thank you for checking this out!


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